Children of the Asylum
by Sugar-induced-Duck
Summary: Varrick and Vanice are the illegitimate children of The Joker and Harley Quinn. Abandoned by the foster system and living their life carefree and guiltless, the two will have to decide whether they will follow the path of crime and destruction or set aside their own journey. All the while facing the truth that they are in fact children of the asylum. WARNING! Disturbing content!
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Nothing is Accidental

They weren't exactly what most would call accidental, sure no one really planned for them or thought out their future with care and forewarning, but all in all they were not exactly what most would call accidental. Vanice is the older of the two, only by five minutes. The textbook term to describe her would be unstable, she was very unstable. One moment she would be smiling and laughing in childish glee and then with the utterance of the wrong word, the aura of the inappropriate emotion, could send the poor girl spiraling down the stairs of a fit of rage and dementia. Vanice is a sweet girl by nature, timid and eager to please. She takes pleasure in acrobatics and circus tricks, when placed in the hands of their elderly foster mother, Helen, she would often watch old VCR tapes of circus and freak shows that Helen kept stored from her youthful days. By the age of seven Vanice had become so flexible, she could turn and twist her spine in all directions. She could slip through the tiny space between iron bars, especially the iron bars that kept delinquents from her favorite candy store in the small town off the far corners from Gotham City.

In her moments of instability, Vanice had the tendency to tug at her extremely dark green, to the point of black, hair. Helen would tie her hair up and slick it down with gel to make it difficult for Vanice to get a good grip of her hair, so when pulling stopped working she would scratch and claw at her skin; she sooner learned that she preferred this. Dear old Helen did her best to calm the child down each time. She'd sing to her, her favorite lullaby, _the sweet little Robin_, hold Vanice's palms away from her skin and rock her back and forth on her lap. To say the least, Vanice was a little unstable, but sweet and an especially happy child.

Then there is Varrick, the younger of the two, born five minutes after Vanice. The "issue" with him was that he was too ok. Varrick was an eerily quiet child. He barely ever talked or communicated with anyone other than Vanice. Social workers feared he may have been autistic or socially impaired, but really it was just that Varrick didn't feel like talking. To him talking when not necessary was troublesome. He disliked expressing his emotions, even more so when he never understood what those emotions were. One time Helen noticed that Varrick was being awfully quieter than he usually was, she has left Vanice and Varrick outside in the yard to play and explore. The yard was like a wonderland of the endless possibilities for imagination fuel. Over the years Helen had built a rose garden with her now deceased husband. In the rose garden that was a lush of different colored flowers and a diversity of sizes, she had also grown a small vegetable garden, raised three fat rabbits and a hyperactive but aged brown Labrador. Helen had been a foster mother for twenty years, fifteen with her husband, and the garden was always a place she knew that any child would love to spend time in, so it befuddled her when she heard Vanice scream and run in panic back into the house and into Helen's bosom.

"Sing the song!" Vanice screamed, "The sweet little Robin, sing the song."

"What's wrong Vanice dear," Helen said as she crouched down to Vanice, "What has you upset all of a sudden? I thought you wanted to play in the garden."

"No no no," Vanice shook her head vigorously, "Varrick ruined it, he ruined it all."

"What do you mean," Helen stood up to peek out the kitchen window and glance at Varrick who was squatting in the middle of the garden looking at the ground. His thick blonde hair masking over his deep blue eyes, his small body hunched over in secrecy. Helen suddenly felt worried; Varrick was unbelievably quiet that morning during breakfast, he'd usually greet her with a smile, ask for his cereal and carry on watching morning cartoons. But today he didn't do any of that. His brows were creased, and eyes downcast the whole day.

Helen grabbed onto Vanice's hand as she stepped out the kitchen and into the garden, a sobbing Vanice following behind her.

"Varrick, sweetie, is everything alright?" Helen started stopping a few feet away from Varrick's back. She felt a sinister aura coming off the small back of the child. "What're you looking at?"

"I decided today that I didn't like it," Varrick spoke up, turning his body swiftly to look back at Helen, cold blue eyes meeting her, "Something about them made me really…upset."

Vanice let go of Helen's hand and ran back into the house, a loud sob releasing from her lips. Helen stayed still, completely stunned at the sight before her. Varrick sat there in a pool of dark red blood, the front of his blue t-shirt stained from the splatters of his butcher, in his hand a large kitchen knife and just by his knees were the three fat bunnies that Helen had raised. Cut apart, dismembered and disfigured.

"I wanted to figure out why they made me upset," Varrick spoke up again since Helen was not answering, but inching away from him, "I thought maybe if I looked inside of them, just like how once Papa and Mama did with me and Vinnie, then maybe I could figure it out."

Varrick and Vanice, they aren't exactly what you'd call accidental children, but no one really planned out their future with care and forewarning. Not Helen who later called the social workers to have the children taken out of her care, not the system that the children soon escaped from at the age of twelve, not Gotham city, and especially not their parents The Joker and Harley Quinn.

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Hey everyone! This is my first try at Young Justice Fanfic, and I've read way too many stories on the children of the Joker and Harley Quinn and wanted to have my go at it!  
Most stories I've read the kids of the Joker just don't seem as deranged or psychotic as I would have imagined being a spawn of a sociopath would be, hopefully this is fitting the bill a little. Lemme know! :D

I'm not the best writer out there so constructive criticism is appreciated, this was a very spur of the moment kind of thing! Hope you like my little snippet of the epilogue! reviews make me write so please leave a review/comment!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Having a Tick

It's not simple to explain, but the children certainly had a tick. Social workers and therapists did their damnest to try to understand this tick but to no avail. The children were of no helping. Varrick was the easiest to reason with, he answered when necessary and gave non-questionable responses considering a child of his age that had just been through a traumatic childhood.

"Ok Varrick," a middle aged bespectacled children's counselor said. He clicked his blue pen over his note pad, his round glasses sliding down his nose as he observed the nine year old blonde haired child before him. The boy wore a large plain red t-shirt that was at least two sizes bigger than his lean figure, dirtied blue jeans and scuffed white knock-off converse. "Tell me how was your day today."

"Fine," Varrick barely spoke above a whisper. The boy glanced, bored, out the window that gave him a clear view of the school's playground. He immediately spotted his sister Vanice sitting by herself on the swings, biting down on a PB&amp;J sandwich. Her hair was pulled into a tight high ponytail that reached to the middle of her back. The hair gel she used to slick her hair down, caused her odd hair color to standout under the hot summer sun.

"Hmm," the counselor took note of the boy's actions. "Did you have a good summer break Varrick? Anything you'd like to share?"

"Not really," Varrick said, cool blue eyes shifting its gaze back to the counselor. "We got moved to another group home. Vanice and I aren't allowed to share a room anymore. I stay with the older boys. Summer was really slow and I didn't really do much but read."

The counselor immediately jotted down what the boy said. He was surprised with the boy's sudden urge to share. "Separation Anxiety?" the counselor wrote down from what he gathered from the boy.

"Speaking of your reading," the counselor said as he put down his notepad and leaned over his desk towards the boy. A smile stretched out to its greatest capacity, revealing yellowing teeth from a heavy smoking habit. "Your IQ test came in, you scored really high and the school's interested in sending you to a gifted program if we get district approval."

"A different school?" Varrick asked, his brows rose in apprehension. His shoulders curved into his chest like he was trying to cocoon himself away from the man before him. "What about Vanice? If I go to a different school we'd have to leave our group home."

"Well you see," the counselor cleared his throat, "Vanice didn't score really high; or high enough. She might need to be put in a special needs class. She might have to stay behind at this school."

"She's fine," Varrick interjected, peeking out the window once again to spot Vanice. She was surrounded by a small group of boys and girls. It looked like an innocent circle of kids to an outsider. Varrick started to clench and unclench his fists over his laps. His breathing started to quicken and started to break out in a sweat over his brows. "It's all those pills she's taking. It messes with her. She can't think straight. It…it's poisoning her."

Varrick's eyes were glued on the crowd forming around his sister to the point that he couldn't spot her anymore. His eyes dilated and he stood up from his chair.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Varrick said

"That's fine," the counselor said, dismissing the boy's behavior, "You can go back to your recess, we're done for now."

Varrick on cue on dismissal, flung his Batman backpack over his shoulder and rushed out the office. Slamming the door shut. He could feel his heart beating in his veins as he rushed down the dirty rundown hallways of his school until he reached the exit that lead to the playground.

He dropped his backpack as soon as he stepped into the hot sun. He dug through he backpack in a frenzy, he hearing became plugged and his surrounding became distorted. He couldn't focus on anything else but his task at hand. He pulled out a pair of scissors.

He approached the crowd, pushing every child in his way and squeezing through the circle until he reached the center. There he saw his sister, Vanice on the ground. Her head was scarily close to the iron bars that held the swing to the ground. Two girls who looked a year older than them were tugging on Vanice's ponytail. Gum was pressed into her slick dark green hair and white sundress dirtied by mudballs thrown at her by the boys that were egging the two girls on.

"Spazz! Spazz!" the kids chanted until it became an irritating ring in Varrick's ears.

"GET OFF HER!" Varrick screamed, lunging at one of the girls that were pulling on Vanice's hair. With scissors in hand he plunged the weapon deep in her forearm, drawing immediately and turning to the other girl who was kicking at Vanice's side.

The girl made a move to inch away and run, but before she could make speed Varrick had grabbed at the braided blonde hair and pulled her to the floor, straddling her and about to bring the scissors over her face.

To the spectators watching, they would have sworn Varrick was just trying to protect his sister. That is until they saw the menacing smirk that spread over his features as he had pinned the girl down.

Two older boys rushed in and tackled Varrick from the girl, who immediately got up and ran in obvious tears and stained blue jeans.

Varrick was pinned down but thrashing. School officials were rushed to the scene. Two burly men held the boy down as he continued to kick and scream.

"Call the school nurse!" One school official yelled, "We need to subdue him."

"Fuck you!" Varrick screamed, kicking the man in his stomach, making the man to lurch.

"Fuck you, you fucking pig fuckers!" Varrick half screamed, half laughed. He shook his arm to harshly, it made the one of the men holding him down shoulder's to dislocate and fall over.

The more Varrick struggled more the teachers and security came forth. Among the disaster the other children were escorted back into the building. A teacher had ran back in the building to call for an ambulance and Gotham Police.

Vanice caught up in the disorder had slipped away, knowing not to get too involved until she noticed a nurse procure a needle over her brother as more men had pinned the screaming child.

"Hold him still," the young nurse said as she flicked the needle to get rid of any air bubbles, kneeling next to the side of Varrick's head ready to inject the fluid into his neck. "We still have to be gen-"

The young nurse fell to the ground. For a moment they all stared at the woman as she lay unconscious, blood starting to seep into the dirty mud soaked ground. Behind her stood Vanice. White dress tattered and dirty, hair disheveled and face none the better. She stood there, looking over the fallen body, a large sturdy rock, half the size of her immature chest held over her head.

She stared at the body, then at her brother who was now calm and looking at her with the rest of the adults as blood dripped from the rock.

Vanice then smiled at her brother and dropped the rock like it was an old toy of no use. She knelt over her brother, stroked his blonde hair and let out a sigh.

"Breathe, breathe," she cooed.

The twins definitely had a tick and that was each other.

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It's been a while since I've been on Fanfiction! I'd really like to focus on this story! Please review! It gives me motivation to continue! :D

I'm debating on whether to turn this to a mature rating or leave it a Teen. Hope you liked this!

Let me know your thoughts! Reasonable criticism is appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Shattering Glass

Vanice's earliest memory was darkness, and the coldness and the loneliness that comes with it. No memory of a mother's soft warm love or a father's gentle protection. So when the guidance counselor at the juvenile holding center attempted to hold her while she was in the middle of what seemed like an episode, Vanice kicked the woman's shin hard enough to bruise.

"Shit!" the woman cursed as she hunched over her leg, inspecting it, "What the hell are in these children's cereal."

Vanice was quickly put in a restraining hold by the security that accompanied her to the counselor. She smiled and stuck her tongue out at the woman as she was firmly contained.

"I thought they were exaggerating with these children's files, Christ," the woman grumbled. She walked away from Vanice and to the chair and table set that was set for both her and Vanice to have a consultation. Paper, crayons and toys scattered across the table meant to engage Vanice. "Alright sit her down."

"Ugh," Vanice said rolling her eyes as she was chained down to the chair. "I don't wanna."

"Too bad, the state taxes go towards fixing problem children like you and I get paid for that." The woman sighed as she pulled out her notepad. "Now let's talk about your feelings Vanice. How have you been lately?"

"Notepads, notepads. Why does everyone have notepads." Vanice asked fidgeting her wrists against the chains.

"So we can remember things," the counselor said, jotting down Vanice's behavior.

"Well maybe you guys need to work better on remembering." Vanice sighed, shaking her head. "Sometimes you have to make sure you remember things yourself. With no help. If you can't do that at least you'll die."

"Why would I die?"

"You never know when your memory will be needed." Vanice said, looking at the woman like she asked a common sensual question.

"Well what do you remember?" the counselor asked, shifting the paper and crayons towards Vanice. "You can write it out, draw or whatever you remember or feel."

Vanice picked up a single black crayon and began to scribble on the paper.

"I remember a lot," Vanice hummed as she haphazardly scribbled all over the paper. "Sometimes, it's a lot all at once. Faces, people, a lot of things. Sometimes I remember so much it hurts and I don't know how to make it stop. But-"

Vanice stopped with the crayon and shifted it back to the counselor, revealing once pure white paper shaded deep charcoal black.

"When I try really hard I can make it stop and it all becomes black."

* * *

Varrick stared blankly to the white padded walls for what seemed like for hours, clenching and unclenching his fist and trying to even his breathing. They switched him to a different room. This time it had no windows just skylight windows and bright pictures, with colorful and happy images on the walls. The room bothered him.

They moved him because Varrick tried to punch his way through the walls. He made small dents before he was restrained and moved.

Varrick looked up to the ceiling admiring the skylight, that was until the steel door that led to his room was unlocked, revealing Vanice escorted by security into the room.

"Visit time!" Vanice smiled gleefully once she spotted her brother. She bounded towards him and embraced him in a tight hug. "Varrick!"

Varrick rolled his eyes at the gesture and nudged Vanice off of him.

"How was your check up?" Varrick asked

"I dunno," Vanice shook her head, "She asked how I feel?"

"How did you feel?" Varrick asked and the door behind them was shut closed leaving them alone in the room.

"Fine…I guess?" Vanice said, her eyes examining the room and the walls.

"Why pillow walls?"

"I can't easily punch through," Varrick said, showing off his bandaged hand.

"Then why not the skylight?"

"I can't jump that high, no more medicine, remember?"

"Hmm," Vanice said, chin in hand, "Do you really wanna leave that bad?"

"You know we can't stay." Varrick said coldly, "They'll know for sure that we're here now that were in an asylum."

"What's an asylum?" Vanice asked, head tilted in question.

"It doesn't matter what it is," Varrick frowned, "Focus Vanice, I need your help."

"Kay!" Vanice smiled, saluting her brother, "What do you need me to do?"

"They want to send me back to a group home and leave you behind."

"Whaaat?" Vanice pouted and stomped her foot, "Why would they do that?"

"Doesn't matter," Varrick said. He walked over to their beds ripping off the bed sheets and blankets on the bed, tying them up in a long chain. But we're getting out.

"How?" Vanice said, "You can't punch through the wall and you can't jump high enough and neither can I."

"C'mere Vanice," Varrick motioned for Vanice then began to tie one end of the cloth chain around her waist.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm going to through you up Vanice," Varrick explained calmly, "I'm going to through you up through the skylight and you'll help pull me up with the chain so we can escape."

"Woah," Vanice said eyes widened. "Like in Tom and Jerry?"

"Huh? Uh yes, I guess. Focus Vanice."

"Aw man," Vanice pouted when Varrick was done tying the cloth around her. "I was starting to like the weird counselor lady.

"Doesn't matter," Varrick looked at her threateningly, "The more you talk Vanice, the more the more they will want to house us. Stop talking so much. Stop remembering."

The room suddenly felt cold and silent. Vanice's shoulders slumped and the intensity of the moment finally set in. They were in Arkham Asylum anyway. Gotham had given up on them and didn't know what else to do for them and soon their cover will be blown.

"We have to go," Varrick said, placing his hand on her shoulders doing his best to mimic softness. "If we don't the Bat will come for us. We can't trust the Bat."

"…I understand," Vanice said quietly, quickly rubbing her eyes to stop the threat of tears.

Vanice braced herself for impact as Varrick picked her up by her ankles. Vanice had a quick thought that her ankles were going to break.

"Don't worry," Varrick sad to her as he lifted her up, "I won't leave you behind."

"I know," Vanice said, her voice shaking a bit. "I trust you."

And within the same breath Varrick tossed her with all his might through the air, and through the skylight. Shattering the glass in their wake.

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Thanks for the reviews guys! It really keeps me motivated to keep going with the story!

Sorry for the long wait too! But Finals are almost done and I can focus more time on this story! What did you think of the chapter and the story so far? And how do you think the story will progress from here?

And how do the twins know the Bat?

Review! and You'll find out in the next chapter :D

ciao


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